


But Doth Suffer a Sea-Change

by cristobalrios



Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Blood, Gen, I have no idea if Vandermeer's death is a ''major character death'' so I checked it just in case, Ibn Majid, Minor Character Deaths, Murder, PTSD, PTSD flashback, Phasers, Suicide, seared flesh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28069410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cristobalrios/pseuds/cristobalrios
Summary: Cristóbal Rios had no idea that he would come literally face-to-face with a ghost of his past. But when he did, he could not stop himself from reliving the tempestuous night that changed his life forever.Takes place during s1e8 "Broken Pieces" while Raffi is helping Cris through his PTSD, but primarily a flashback to that night on the Ibn Majid. Just one possible version of events.
Relationships: Cristóbal Rios & Alonzo Vandermeer
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	But Doth Suffer a Sea-Change

**Author's Note:**

> Noun:  
> \- sea change (plural sea changes)  
> 1\. (idiomatic) A profound transformation.  
> From Shakespeare's The Tempest.  
> \--  
> This was technically the first Star Trek fic I ever wrote. I wrote most of it a long time ago but didn't post it immediately and only recently transferred it to my new computer and added a bit more/edited it a bit.

Raffi and Cris sat on the floor in Cris’s cabin, objects from Cris’s past, from the Ibn Majid scattered around them. He stared down at the picture of Jana’s face. _Soji’s_ face. It was surreal, seeing her standing there. His past come back to haunt him, a ghost of his past literally staring him in the face. He never thought he’d see that face again. Not while awake, at least. Not _standing in front of him,_ not a nightmare or a flashback, a _real living person._ Well… Synthetic. Person. Girl… But she was there, and it was _her._ But it wasn’t. Not quite. Her _face_ was the same, but her skin was different, and her eyes. Soji looked human and it was unnerving. He’d seen that same face with blood all over it, or the equivalent. Cauterized by the phaser’s beam. Seen it floating lifeless in the dead of space, _put there by him,_ side-by-side with Beautiful Flower.

A phaser wound to the head. Both of them. There was blood, and that charred smell of a phaser on kill, that cut straight through the body, that was sickening. There was yelling, and confusion.

 _Orders from Starfleet Security,_ Vandermeer had told him, as Rios stared at the lifeless bodies in shock.

But _what the hell kind of orders are those? They were innocent! They did nothing!_ It was supposed to be first contact. _How—How could you do this? Something is wrong, Captain. Why would Starfleet want them dead? This was a first contact._ It was first contact, wasn’t it? What is it that Starfleet wasn’t telling them?

 _I had my orders, commander._ He’d said sternly, but he _wasn’t_ doing well. He wasn’t handling it but Rios either didn’t notice or didn’t seem to care. He kept pushing. He was too angry. Why did he not _see?_

 _Orders?! You murdered them! You **murdered** —_Rios couldn’t deal with this, either. And his head hurt—like it does now. Now--? Those words, though, they slipped out anyway. _You’re a **murderer.**_

 _They told me to execute them or they’d blow up the ship with everyone on it._ Vandermeer told him, and his voice was desperate. Trying to understand, to rationalize, to make _Rios_ understand--because it’s too late now, it _has_ to have been the right choice. They had to both believe that or he _had_ murdered them. He couldn’t accept that. _We need to get rid of the evidence. We’re not supposed to let anyone know._

 _Get rid of the—_ This isn’t Starfleet. This _can’t be_ Starfleet. How could they--? A cover-up? _What the hell is this? What kind of orders—You’re **positive** it was Starfleet?_

_Of course it was Starfleet! What are you suggesting? Direct from Commodore Oh, the head of Starfleet Security herself. Stop questioning my orders, **commander.** Are you going to help me, or do I need to throw you in the brig for treason?_

_Treason--? I’m not the one who just **murdered two innocents!**_

**_They weren’t innocents!_** Vandermeer yelled.

_Then what did they do?_

_I don’t—I don’t know._

_You don’t know. But you killed them anyway._

He was beginning to doubt now. The panic was setting in. _Orders from Starfleet—_

 _Starfleet security, I know._ Orders. _You just blindly followed orders without even questioning it?_

**_That’s the job._ **

**_It’s not my job._** _I can’t have any part in this. Arrest me if you want._ Rios turned to the door. He was ready to be court-martialed for this. He was _so sure._

Vandermeer picked up his phaser again, and Rios turned to look at him. _Captain--?_ What is he doing?

The phaser was pointed at Rios, and Rios stopped. _Are you going to shoot me, too? Add another murder to your hands?_

Vandermeer stared at him, unmoving. _You really—you really think they were innocent? You’re willing to risk your **life** on this?_

Rios was eerily calm, because he _was_ willing to risk his life for this. _I firmly believe this couldn’t have been the right thing. There’s more to this than we’ve been told._ Rios told him, and he walked close to him, the phaser pressed against his chest. _Do it._

But he didn’t. Not to Rios. _Please. Don’t let it be a waste. Save the crew,_ were his last words before he turned the phaser on himself, shooting at full blast through his mouth, brains and blood splattered on the bulkhead behind him as his lifeless body collapsed into Cris's arms.

That damn smell was stronger than ever. Seared flesh. Rios’s ears were ringing and he couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. He wasn’t dead, but Vandermeer was. He held onto the body tightly, Vandermeer’s blood smearing all over his hands as he collapsed to the floor with it. He was blinking, unable to process what had just happened, but a piercing beep cut through the air from the computer. He could just hear it over the sound that he distantly realized must have been his own sobs.

A message from Starfleet Security. They would blow up the ship if they did not hear back from them, that the passengers were dead. He had five minutes to report back. Five minutes.

Vandermeer’s last words echoed through his head. _Please. Don’t let it be a waste. Save the crew._

Vandermeer may have suffered a sea-change, but it was Cris who would never be the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Full fathom five thy father lies;  
> Of his bones are coral made;  
> Those are pearls that were his eyes:  
> Nothing of him that doth fade,  
> But doth suffer a sea-change  
> Into something rich and strange.  
> Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:  
> Ding-dong.  
> Hark! now I hear them—Ding-dong, bell.  
> \- Ariel, Act I, Scene II of The Tempest by William Shakespeare, sung to the shipwrecked Ferdinand about his father.


End file.
